Invisible Threats
by rambling raconteur
Summary: Leia catches what seems to be at first only a harmless cold, but it turns out much more serious. Han, Luke, and Leia realize just how much danger they really are in, even after the age of the Rebel Alliance. Post-ROTJ. AU
1. Chapter 1: A Hutt After A Glut

**Another long story. My last long story went over pretty well, so I'm starting up a new one now that I'm alive on here again. x)**

**Presenting the multi-chapter:**

**Invisible Threats**

**By Cinquain**

**Chapter One: A Hutt After A Glut**

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Never have I been this tired in my life.

I stumble into my quarters, the door shutting behind me as I collapse on the couch. My legs ache, my arms ache, my head aches. Heck, my whole body aches. Wisps of escaped hair from my braids tickle my cheeks as I settle down on the couch. I can hear someone knocking around in the kitchen and sure enough, Han pokes his head in through the doorway. He wears a lopsided stained apron we dug up somewhere in the drawers, and he has his signature smile with a touch of warmth to it. Usually a sight like this would liven me up a little bit, but for some reason I am as listless as a Hutt after a glut.

"Hey, sweetheart," he chirps, but his attitude quickly changes to one of concern. He strides over to me, tossing the ragged apron over a chair and kneeling down next to me. "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah," I say confidently. Or, at least, I try. It comes out more like a whisper, which only makes the look on Han's face darker. Sithspit. I clear my throat in a futile effort. "I'm fine."

"Uh, no," he imitates my weak murmur, half exasperated. "You're not. I told you not to go to work this morning."

"I'm telling you, I'm fine." I respond with exasperation. I really get annoyed when he's overprotective. _I'm not a child,_ I think to myself irritably as I sit up. The simple movement makes my head spin and I automatically grab at Han. As the fireworks clear from my eyes I can see my husband's reproachful gaze. "Happens all the time." I comment defiantly. And it does.

"And that's not normal," he presses gently, though I can sense a bit of frustration and a hint of admiration. "Come on."

"Han, I've got work to do-"

"I'll bring your datapad to the bed."

"I've got to eat-"

"In bed."

"I can't just sleep in my robes-"

"I'll take care of it." His voice has the tone that means that the argument is over. I give up fighting and he carries me to the bed. I'll get out soon enough anyways.

(How wrong I was.)

It has been only two weeks since we've been married, three days since the end of our honeymoon. He's already taking over my life in bad ways (and good, I have to shamefully admit). He sets me down on the made bed.

"You cleaned up. I'm impressed," I say dryly, literally, as my throat is rough as sandpaper. "I thought nerfherders left messes to their wives."

"Oh, Princess," he remarks. "I would kiss you if you weren't such a biohazard." And I prove his point as he just manages to dodge an explosive cough.

"Sorry," I croak.

He helps me undress into a comfortable t-shirt and pajama pants and tucks me in carefully.

"I'll be back with your dinner. Good thing I made soup instead of bantha ribs." He leaves me with a peck on the kiss. I sit back, alone, thinking about how maybe this sick patient pampering may not be so bad after all.

He soon returns with a tray laden with soup and crackers and a mug of hot chocolate. There is also a plate of my favorite Alderaanian pears, and I kiss him on the neck gratefully. I just about realize how much I love him as he crumbles the crackers for me and watches me eat with almost dreamy eyes. Guess we're still both newly-wedded-young-couple lovestruck.

"Leia?" he tucks his feet under the covers beside me and pulls a pillow up to his back.

"Hmm?" I mumble through a mouthful of hearty Corellian soup and crackers.

"Are you overworking yourself again?"

"No," I say after gulping the food down. "Yes, I stay on schedule, yes, I eat my lunch, and yes, I did take a break today." His worried look seems more intense than usual, however, and I frown, spoon suspended halfway to my mouth. "What?"

"You just don't look well," he shakes his head, avoiding my gaze. "Keep eating, sweetheart." He taps the tray and I shrug, too tired and too lazy and enjoying myself too much to try and figure out his odd behavior at this moment.

"It's good that you didn't make the spicy Corellian soup tonight," I say lightly, trying to brighten his mood. "This is delicious, thank you honey." But he only smiles halfheartedly and rearranges the pears on their platter.

For the rest of the day he is like this; quiet, but very concerned and quick to help me out at anything that I may have the slightest difficulty with. But I let him, because I know for one, it would drive him crazy if he couldn't, and two, I know that his mood is a ticking bomb of mystery. I don't want to let it go while I'm still incapable (and unwilling) to settle him down again. And anyways, who wants their first major married fight only three days after the honeymoon?

I stay in bed, working on my datapad while Han goes about and finishes cleaning the apartment. By the time he's done night has fallen and it's about 2000 hours [8 pm]. He comes in and undresses before he lies down next to me, watching me as I shut the electronic down.

"Careful," I say as he takes me into his arms. "I'm infectious."

His first smile of the day lights his face and it immediately heals a part of me.

"What, you've always been infectious, Your Worship." Han tosses back.

"Well!" I say in mock offense, but can't keep the smile off my own face. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing," he says airily before leaning in for a lip-to-lip kiss. I jerk back, giving him an apologetic grin.

"Sorry. No kisses while I'm down for maintenance." I respond gleefully at the sight of his disgruntled expression.

"Hum." he mutters, but kisses me anyways on the forehead. We both drift off to sleep quickly.

The next morning Han is awake up and early, helping me into some clothes. Despite the plentiful rest and good warm meal he has made me, I only feel worse. It is him who suggests visiting the doctors office, and though at first I vehemently protest he eventually drags me down the hallway and to the elevator and into the speeder.

"Han!" I hiss as he buckles me in. He's in a rush and doesn't even pause to look at me as he says it.

"What, is it a kiss that you want?" He gives me a quick peck on the lips before backing out of the passenger seat and shutting the door. He leaps into the driver's seat and starts the engine. "There you go."

"Han!"

He drives furiously, shouting his usual insults at unruly drivers and receiving insults for his unruly driving (as usual).

"Han, this isn't the Falcon," I gasp in terror, clutching the roof handle and reminding myself to never, ever let Han Solo drive a speeder in an urgent situation. Heck, this isn't even urgent. "There are a thousand other craft on this route-"

"Just the asteroid field all over again, huh sweetheart," he says hurriedly, and I think I know why he is driving so recklessly. For the past two weeks he's been restricted to a lumbering, slow tourist ship instead of the Falcon because of much needed (professional, to his disgust) repair to the (yup, you guessed it) hyperdrive. "Scootch it, old man!"

"Han!" I pant for the third time, but he only floors the pedal. Up ahead a long (very very very long) train of produce trucks is approaching straight across our hospital route and my heart skips a beat. A word dies in my throat as Han leans forwards on the gas and our speeder groans and zips at an unimaginable rate. Just at the last moment he tips the speeder and slices through into the main hospital parking lot.

"Han!" I rage as soon as I find my voice. He shuts me up with a long, passionate kiss, and I find myself leaning into the embrace before gaining sense and pushing him away.

"You're going to catch my cold!" I start, but he jumps out the car and opens my door. I look up at him in a part despairing, part admiring, and part exasperated shake of my head. Taking my hand, we take off to the shuttle station.

Since the East Corucsant Hospital is so big, they use shuttles to transport patients to different wings of the place. A shuttle stops at the station and we step in. There is a child with a bandage around his forearm, a man clutching his leg, and an elderly woman that seems rather sprightly and not in the need of medical attention. All eyes turn to Han and I and I blush before sneezing into my sleeve.

"Is the Princess in need of some cold medication?" the voice is from the elderly woman, who smiles warmly. We sit down across from her and Han lays a protective hand on my knee. She begins to rummage about in her small purse but I stop her.

"Oh, no, I'm fine, thank you," I say politely, and she relents, still a shade of a smile on her face as she looks beyond us, out the window.

Soon the woman is dropped off at the Elderbeing's Wellness Center, and we are next to exit at the Minor Disease and Injury Department. Han ushers me into the building and we check in before waiting in the packed waiting room. The chairs are taken by countless different beings with all sorts of injuries and problems. Some have burns, bandages, bacta pads, casts, and others are coughing or sneezing or wheezing or moaning. There is not a single seat left but as soon as we step in a young human man and who seems to be his wife stand up quickly.

"Please take our seats," they say with gracious smiles, and I am surprised at the kindness of the people we have met so far. But Han seems rather weary, and shakes his head impassively. Slightly embarrassed at his reaction, I smile at them.

"Oh, it's all right. It seems you may need the seat more than we do." I respond, and they do. The husband has a makeshift bacta pad and bandage on his left leg. They sit back down and I lean towards Han.

"Talk about impolite," I scold quietly. "What's the matter with you today?" He only puts his arm around me, hand firm on my waist as we wait.

After a long wait and almost complete silence between the two of us we are called in. I sit down on the adjusting chair/bed, my tired legs grateful for the break. Han stands next to me, holding my hand and fidgeting with my fingers until I pull away, amused.

"Is it you about to be checked up or me?" I comment wryly.

"I'm really worried about you, Leia," Han started suddenly, taking my hand again and looking me in the eye. The door opened before he could continue, however, and he gave a quick, troubled kiss before sitting back on his own chair.

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**I really couldn't figure out where to stop this chapter before it turned into the whole story, so sorry about the awkward stop.**

**Reviews always make the next chapter happen. Sometimes it makes it better, too. :)**


	2. Chapter 2: Hopeful Rejection

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**This chapter is a bit shorter, but another is coming right after, possibly on the same day. x) I'm on a roll!**

**Oh, and I forgot.**

**This is all Disney's rights now. Grrr. Darn it, Disney. (Ifya wanna rant and chat about how Lucasfilm sold rights to Disney, drop me a line. I really wanna talk to someone else about this other than my dad, who barely even knows what Leia's last name is.)**

**Chapter Two: Hopeful Rejection**

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They do all sorts of tests on her; pulse, temperature, breathing, heartbeat. Even blood and urine! With each passing moment they are more and more stumped. Poor Leia looks near exhaustion and my own heart is slowly being crushed with the revelation that this may all be my fault.

We exit the building, ride the shuttle back to the station, and board the speeder. I drive slowly now, to the relief of Leia, and she falls asleep quickly. I watch her, admiring her beautiful face as always, but feeling that sharp pain in my chest that keeps shouting at me that this is all my fault.

"Leia," I shake her gently, and she jerks awake, her face startled. "Sorry." I murmur, but she does not respond, shaking slightly in what seems to be fear. "Leia?"

"I just saw…" she trails off, before suddenly throwing her arms around me. "Take us home, Han, I need to tell you something when we get there."

We make our way to the apartment and I gently put her down on the couch. She pats the spot beside her and I sit. We stay there for a while, her and me, Leia staring straight ahead with a hint of terror still on her face. Me with my eyes closed, not knowing when to start, or where to start.

"Han," she finally speaks, her voice barely a whisper. "I had a Force vision. A dream. About us, you and I and Luke, too. There was just this darkness following us. But within the dark was light. Blinding light. It was so hard to see, so hard to run. Then it took us. One by one… I was last."

I didn't have anything to say, only run my hands through her loose hair in what might have been a comforting gesture.

"I think you'd better speak about that to Luke," I say finally, and she nods, staring down at the floor. Now it's my turn, and I cannot bring myself to say the words.

"I know…" I choke, before going silent again.

"You're getting ahead of yourself," Leia said with a wan grin. "I love you too."

"No, no," I say in frustration. "I know why you're ill."

"Just a cold," she says airily, but I shake my head.

"Didn't you hear the doctors? This isn't just a cold. They have no idea what's the matter," I suddenly rush on. "You've caught the Ghraat bug."

"The what?"

The whole thought of having to say it all to Leia makes me want to run away. I cover my face with my hands, unable to hold back the sobs.

"Han," she says in concern. "What's the matter?" Her voice is dead serious now. She knows that Han Solo only cries when all hope is lost. And all hope, is literally _all hope._ "Han, please."

"You're going to die."

* * *

"Leia?"

I step into the room and Luke hugs me.

"I haven't seen you in a while," he says, but he seems distracted too. We both sit at the dining room table, and Luke gets right down to what is on both of our minds.

"Did you get the vision too?" he asks, and I nod immediately.

"And there's something else-" the sentence dies in my throat, but I seem oddly serene. Is this what it's like? To know that you're going to die, or that you can die any moment?

I can feel Luke reaching out, trying to calm me with the Force, but finding that I'm already so quiet he backs away. I know that he'd never invade my mind without permission. But I reach out to him myself, with the Force.

_I'm going to die, Luke. Soon. Very soon._

Luke only takes my hands from across the table and look into my eyes. I meet them steadily, but I can feel myself crying rivers inside. He can see the truth, and for the first time since he has come back from Dagobah as a Jedi, he has turmoil in his eyes.

"Don't say such things," Luke murmurs in disbelief and sadness and fear and a thousand other emotions.

"I've been to the doctors. They can't figure out what's wrong with me. I'm supposed to call in for the results for a blood test, but I know that it'll only reveal the results. Han has researched it already. He saw the headlines on the news on the first day back, about some natives catching the bug from some infected fruits, they all died, seventeen of them."

Luke looks down at the table, his face showing the hopeful rejection that we have all felt.

"I have a month left."

"No." Luke stands up suddenly, blue eyes blazing with fire. "You aren't going to die. We can't just give up."

"Luke, I'm already at the end of my tether. I'm so fatigued, I can hardly think straight, let alone go off on a wild goose chase across the galaxy for a cure that doesn't even exist."

"Then stay here. We'll find it, Han, Chewie and I. Don't give up, sister. Please." His eyes are brimming with tears. I might as well humor them.

"All right."

He watches me carefully, but I have shielded most of my thoughts.

"One last thing?" I say softly after a dark silence.

"Yes?"

"I'm pregnant."

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**Oooohhh. Two bombshells Cx. Stay tuned. Next chapter coming up reeaaaaally soon.**

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	3. Chapter 3: Don't You Dare

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**That was quick, you might have been thinking. ;) This one is even shorter than the last, but since they've come virtually right after the other, don't get all 'not enough stuff' on me. CX**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter Three: Don't You Dare**

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Mon Mothma is silent on the other end of the comm.

"You-you can't be serious, Leia," she says, and it's the first time I've ever heard her stutter.

"It's true. I'm resigning, as you can see why." I stay calm as ever. There is another silence.

"Okay. Rest, please spend your last moments well."

I'm not sure, but I think I hear her voice choking up as the call ends.

I lie back on the bed, eyes to the ceiling. This is the fourth time I've broken the news. First to Han, Luke, Chewbacca. The blood tests proved true, the labeling features of the parasite's waste floating among the cells. I had received the results of the urine test earlier, before my visit to Luke, proving that I was also, indeed, pregnant.

I put a hand on my abdomen, and tears find my eyes again.

"I'm sorry," I whisper to the child that will never see the world. My child.

Han opens the door. Our child.

"I got a call from the hospital. They want to see us again."

I give no complaint as he helps me back to the speeder, on the shuttle, to the building. I am once again seated at the office and they check me over again.

"Classical symptoms of the Grataavi Estorry, one doctor murmurs. They have brought scores of researchers into the room with instruments and medical things that I have no name for. One puts headphones on my head and asks me whether if I can hear certain sounds. Another tests my sensitivity to knocks by a little rubber hammer. A couple sit in the corner and scribble notes down. I have no objections crossing my lips, and Han seems pained by it all, holding my hand tightly. I have retreated into my own shell, where I am only aware of Han and orders that the doctors are giving me.

Eventually they all swarm out, and I am able to poke my head out of my mental shell.

"Han?"

He stands next to me, leaning against the wall and watching what is going on. Now he relaxes slightly and pulls me closely.

"I don't like this stuff," he mumbles. I nod in agreement.

"I just want to go home."

They return and talk about how that they predicted this and whatever. I'm not listening to my death sentence again.

"But there might be a cure."

I immediately turn to stare at the doctor who has said this. He is a tall, balding man with a crown of gray hair left. He stares above thick metal-rimmed glasses at me, and for once, I am paying attention.

"There is a legendary hermit that lives on the planet of Navis. He is very elusive and some people aren't even sure if he's alive anymore. The natives call him Ethelesus the Prophet, and he has healed the few that have found his presence in the mountains."

"Okay," Han says shortly. I can tell that he's losing patience with these doctors, and he takes me by the hand and drags me out.

"Thank you," I call anyways as we exit the place again.

"Just when I thought it was possible, they waste two hours of our lives and give us a fairytale about an old wizard." Han runs his hand down his face as he starts the car. He seems very agitated.

"Hey, what's the hurry?" I say as casually as I can. He glances at me with a disbelieving shake of his head.

"Sweetheart, you're booked with the Grim Reaper for tea within a month!" he says in a barely controlled tone. "Each hour, each minute, each second of your slowly waning life is a diamond in the hourglass!" His voice has risen to a shout, and I shrink back in surprise. There is a moment of quiet before he sighs.

"I'm sorry, Leia," he mutters, not meeting my eyes. "It's like I'm going to die, not you. I can't and won't put up with any fools wasting your time."

"But Han-"

"Princess." He turns his head to look at me, and I can see that the word this time is a term of passionate endearment. "You die, I die."

Disturbed by what he has said, I stop talking for the rest of the ride. What can he mean? Figuratively, or literally? Both is terrible. He would really do so, it would really happen, just because of me?

Love is a pile of bantha dung.

As we step into the lobby of the apartment building and press the button for the elevator, I turn and speak to him, unable to articulate it in any other way.

"Don't you dare die because of me."

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	4. Chapter 4: Our Only Hope

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**Sorry it took forever. I slogged through that one, but it'll get more exciting very soon. ;)**

**Chapter Four: Our Only Hope**

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"Stay with me."

Her hand darts out from the covers, grabbing a hold of my wrist as I start to get out of bed. I can see her chocolate brown eyes peeking out from the bedsheets, and I squeeze her hand.

"Okay."

I lie down again next to her, and she rests her head on my chest, her hand still in mine as we rest in silence. I begin to wonder if she has fallen asleep again when her voice whispers into the air.

"We could have had a child, you know."

I look down at her, and she blinks her doe-eyes up at me. My heart breaks once again.

"Don't say could have," I respond softly. "Just don't."

"Well." Leia quietens, and I know she isn't talking because of my sake. I still believe that this is all my fault, because I was the one who chose the planet. Gysse, idyllic and green and so full of life. And I made that crucial mistake. We traced it down to a single coconut Leia ate from at the local markets. I rejected it, having that I've always hated those things. I even have the picture of her, sipping from the freshly cut nut, face smiling behind the shade from a large-brimmed sunhat.

"Remember what the doctor said?"

"That?" I scoff half-heartedly. I stroke her hair with my other hand.

"Yes. Do you think the person really-"

"Oh, Leia," I sigh, unable to say anything else. She wriggles under the sheet before sitting up and staring at me intensely.

"I'm serious, Han." she prods, and I sit up myself, leaning against the backboard and returning her gaze.

"What makes you think it's possible?" I try to say as gently as possible. "Leia, you know that it's most likely just a local myth, and you're much too weak to go off on a chase across the galaxy."

"Don't think about me, then." she murmurs after a silence, dropping her look. "Think about our child."

I look away from her too, not knowing what to say.

"I don't want..." I choke in mid-sentence. "I don't want our child to live without its mother."

"As selfish as it sounds, neither do I." she says softly.

I get out of bed, folding back the sheets. I turn around and give her as quick kiss.

"Let's talk to Luke about it," I suggest, and Leia nods, satisfied. "But first, let's have breakfast."

Leia picks at her food, too excited to eat much, but I manage to make her eat a piece of soft white bread and butter, and a glass of blue milk.

She dresses and does her make up and puts up her hair in that Bespin fashion that I think is so beautiful on her. She's a bit stronger because of some medication the doctors gave her, but of course it's only to boost her energy, not to cure her condition.

We take the elevator to his apartment floor, which is only three floors down. Luke greets us with a quiet smile at the door, and we sit down in the living room.

"The doctors told us about something that we need your help on." I start.

"Fire away," Luke says. Leia and I exchange looks, and there is a moment of tense silence.

"Apparently there is a...hermit, living on a barren world somewhere. Local myths say that he could heal people with the...disease." Leia says haltingly. To our surprise, his blue eyes brighten.

"I found some old holo-records of Jedi healers of the old days, who could do many, well, medical miracles."

"Luke, this isn't about some hokey religions-"

"But it is," Leia interjected softly.

"Well, then, why don't you just do it yourself, Luke?" I growled, finding an inexplicable sense of anger and frustration rising in me.

"Han, you know I can't-"

"Yeah, you know why? Because this universe is all jacked up and all the bad things just happen to the people who always mean the best. Maybe there is a better place, far, far away, maybe back in time or in the future, but believe me, getting your hopes up is just a waste of your time!"

My voice rises to a shout and when I finish I realize Leia is staring at me with what seems to be fear in her eyes. I deflate in sudden exhaustion and slump back onto the couch, my hands going to my face as I find tears falling from my eyes.

The moment is silent as Leia leans over, her lips brushing my cheek, her fingers prying under mine to wipe my own tears away. And I cannot believe it either. Han Solo has never, ever, ever cried. Ever.

Until now.

Neither of them seem remotely surprised, and Luke speaks first.

"Do you want to pursue this?"

"What?"

I stare at him in disbelief.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"There's no way out but this, Han."

She watches me with those dark brown eyes, and I can feel that same love I fell into from that first day.

"It's our only hope."

I lean over and kiss her tenderly, taking her hands in mine and looking straight into her eyes.

"Let's go."

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	5. Chapter 5 : The Huntress

**Thanks for reading and reviewing.**

**A couple of new characters make an appearance, one of my own creation, and one beyond his 'grave'! x3**

**Enjoy.**

**Chapter Five: The Huntress**

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"Go in the cabin right now."

"No."

Leia stands her ground, her eyes daring me to try and make her.

"Leia!" I shout in exasperation, finger pointing to the door of my, or our, cabin. "You're ill. Get in there right now or I'll lock you in the hold!"

"I can sit in a chair, thank you very much!" she growls angrily, stomping her feet in what I would usually find a cute manner. Right now it has me fuming.

"Just let her sit in the cockpit," Chewie grumbles tiredly. Leia nods in thanks to my copilot and barrels into the other room without another word.

"Let her be, cub," he woofs. "She's sensible enough to take care of herself."

"No, she isn't," I sputter. "Did you forget about Hoth?"

"I'll wrestle her into the cabin for you when she needs to, now would you get the ship started?"

I finish loading the supplies in the hold. I am puzzled when I find the door wide open, even though I am absolutely sure I closed it before our argument. I close it anyways. Must be imagining things.

Luke arrives at the last moment, and of course, Artoo and Goldenrod has to tag along. Luckily they sit at the holochess table, and the rest of us strap ourselves in. I'm still ruffled by our latest argument, but I soon forget as I place my hands on the controls.

Ahh. The Falcon. I haven't been able to fly her for weeks now. It feels good to be back.

We take off out of the bay, and Luke volunteers to get some kaffe. We all sure could use a cup. It's only 0530 hours in the morning.

Soon Chewie has gone off to finish fixing up his Wookie-size bed after it broke a leg. I suspect that it has to do with Malla's good cooking for a good few weeks. He stayed at Kashyyyk during our honeymoon, and I bet he's gained a few more pounds.

Then it's just a stony Leia in the cockpit with me. I switch it to autopilot for a moment and sit back, waiting to see if it will be her or me to speak first.

"Sorry." she said flatly after a second, darting a casual glance at me. I shrug uncomfortably. I know I haven't taken offense, but something in me wants to egg her on. An apology is just so rare from her, and I can't let it lie.

"Sure, then." I mutter, running a finger along the dashboard and blowing the new layer of dust from my hands. I immediately the discomfort and embarrassment rolling away from her, quickly followed by weak indignant layers.

"I retract my previous apology," she hisses angrily like a cat tricked by a mouse. I wonder what I should do next before throwing it away and turning in my seat with a small grin.

"You banthahead." she murmurs, a small smirk on her face as she looks down again. "You tricky nerf-minded-"

She doesn't get to finish as I lean over and put my lips against hers.

"Is this how you always finish fights?"

An unfamiliar voice jerks us apart and my blaster is out and aimed at the figure in the doorway.

Leia's hand goes to her heart, and her own weapon is out only a second after mine.

"Oh look, the duo." The woman's voice is lofty, bored, even, but her grip on her own weapon is firm. She has dark blonde hair, brilliant ivy green eyes and a satisfied, dark look in her eyes. She is very beautiful, her body well formed, but despite what I usually think first when I see women the only thought in my head is that this girl is dangerous. Girl, because she doesn't look much older than Leia.

The princess's thumb silently switches the intensity level to stun, but I shoot her a look. She glares right back with brown orbs of fire and I reluctantly follow.

"What do you want?" Leia declares in her voice that she uses for enemies on level ground. I admire how she knows what tone to use; authoritative, decisive, but slightly diplomatic. And of course, strong and loud.

"Money." she snaps back. "You're wanted dead or alive, Solo," she nods to me, and my eyebrows lower in annoyance and displeasure, as if this was only a game.

"We're both Solo now." I stall smoothly. I manage to snatch a flash of her own displeasure and what seems to be jealousy. My stomach lurches.

"The princess is wanted alive, as you might want to know." she snarls. An even worse feeling in my stomach takes over.

"But if you behave you might be spared too." Her voice is a seductive rough purr, and I wince visibly. Her eyes darken in rage and her hands tighten around her blaster. Leia is next to spit a disgusted retort.

"Never."

Her blaster barrel spits light and we both take cover under chairs. I hear another hiss and I skip a heartbeat when I hear a form drop to the ground.

"Leia?" I cry. A small hand finds mine and squeezes it reassuringly.

"I'm okay," she breathes, and we stand up and gather around the prone form in the doorway. Luke joins us from the shadows, his own blaster smoking. The woman is stunned, and Luke turns the safety lock back on his weapon as he tucks it back in his belt.

"Everyone okay?" he asks, reaching back into the passage to reveal a tray of still-steaming kaffe. I grab a cup and take a grateful sip.

"Yes." my wife reassures him, looking down at the woman.

"How did she get in?" Leia asks, bewildered. Luke bends down and unbuckles the utility belt from her slim waist, examining the deadly arrays of weapons and machines.

"I think she snuck into the hold while I wasn't there," I mumble, remembering the phenomenon with the opened door.

"She's a bounty hunter, and a skilled one, no doubt." Leia takes her own mug and warms her hands.

"Not really skilled. Rich is more like it." Luke responds, brushing a couple of thermal detonators in a pouch.

"I think Greedo was sharper than her." I added in agreement as Chewie arrives, late. "Let's get her out of here before she wakes up. I've got a few questions to ask her."

And I do. Who has dared to set a bounty on our heads, now so safely protected by the strength of the New Republic?

I have a bad feeling about this.

Luke and Chewie I carry her to the hold and lock the door, making sure that she does not have any weapons. The kid behaves oddly, however, and seems almost spacey.

"You okay?" I ask concernedly as we make our way back to the cockpit. Luke nods silently, and Chewie whines about how the kaffe will be cold.

"Oh, shut up, you furball," I respond. "Luke, are you sure that there's nobody else on the ship?" I speak mostly just to get conversation out of him.

"Yeah, don't worry." he says quietly, and we take our seats back in the cockpit.

We've arrived at Navis, and we're taxied into an old, shabby spaceport by a pair of old, shabby low-power speeders.

I start to turn down the engines when Luke springs up and turns, facing the door.

The bounty huntress scowls angrily, but she is completely still. I turn my gaze to see Luke with a calm, controlled look on his face, one hand outstretched at the woman.

"You're Force-sensitive." he comments in a flat voice. She is suddenly able to move again, but Luke immediately shakes his head at Leia and I as we reach for our blasters.

"I knew it." she growled under her breath. "Graphis should have taken the deal beforehand."

"Who?" I snap in alarm at the familiar name. Horrifying memories rise in my mind at that word.

"Graphis Heste, you should know," she says with a malicious leer. "He's after all of you."

Chewbacca roars in worry, and I cringe inwardly.

Graphis was a one-time crimelord before his fall just before the destruction of the first Death Star. He almost rivaled Jabba the Hutt in his power, and he could easily reach over and pluck a string to send the economy and growth of one planet across the galaxy to ruins. But unlike Jabba, he lay low, and most of the authorities did not know of him manipulating the galaxy for his own benefit. Chewie and I had some nasty run-ins with him after his cargo of rare Taphyris gems got stolen back from us. We just barely escaped with our lives, and we haven't brushed by him for a long while. That's when we started to lean on Jabba more. (Which turned out to be a bad idea, as you know.)

I wonder why he suddenly wants all of us? He fell from his throne after a big scandal involving an associate's wife and many stolen fuel tap lands on Graas. The associate mainly involved managed to spread the word and took the land back before he could disappear. Just as his other blackmailed allies turned around to attack, he had vanished from the universe, apparently, with his last possessions and a handful of his most loyal workers.

Nobody has heard about him since. Until now.

"He's waiting for you. Here. Now."

"Now?" Leia stared in shock.

"Right at this spaceport. Looks like Solo isn't as smooth as he thinks he is, hmm?" her mouth widens in a dark grin before Chewbacca comes up behind her and places cuffs on her wrists. She sits down without a word, only a small satisfied smile on her face.

It's too late to turn back, and I take Leia's hand as Chewie, Luke, the bounty hunter, and us step down to the solid ground of Navis.

"You're under arrest." A low voice declares from under a familiar helmet.

Chewie wails in disbelief and Leia sputters beside me.

"Boba Fett?"

* * *

**Whoa-whaaaat?**

**Well, the EU said he survived, like-what-fifty encounters with the Sarlacc, so why can't I add one? ;)**

**Reviews make my world go round~ :)**


	6. Chapter 6 : My Shin!

**Thanks for reading and reviewing.**

**Annnnndddd what happens next?!**

**Don't ask me, read it!**

**Chapter Six: My Shin!**

* * *

"We meet again."

Han's hand goes to his waist, but the other men on the landing pad, neatly dressed in sharp outfits, already have their's leveled at him. I touch his hand and he stares around with a dark look on his face.

"Throw down your weapons if you want to live, Solo," his gravelly voice murmurs from beneath the battered helmet. "You too, princess, Jedi, Wookie."

Our blasters and lightsaber clatter to the floor. I shift my foot slightly, just imperceptibly touching the toe of my boot to my husbands. The concealed short blaster just barely knocks against my ankle, and I know Han has his own in his own right boot.

They start to walk us down the platform to the adjacent spaceport building. They scan us for any metal objects, but the weapons are encased in a thin scan-proof sleeve. We pass, and I am surprised that they do not tell us to remove our boots or undo my hair.

We continue on down the dark, shady corridor to a turbolift, and we are shot up into the sky. The door opens to another long, endless corridor. I squint through the dark as we are shoved into the passage, and as we near the end, I see the crimson double doors, engraved and decorated with shining brass and gold. It contrasts sharply with the crumbling walls, where you can see some of the durasteel frame and bricks showing through the cheap whitewash.

"The prisoners, Your Honor," raps out one of the officers.

"Enter."

The double doors swing open simultaneously, pulled by two young girls that look about twelve or eleven. They avoid my curious gaze and keep their heads bowed in a respectful, yet cowed, way. They have simple brown tunics and shoes, and they give off an air of fear and utter respect originating from terror. What have they gone through to serve this man at such a young age? Suddenly Han flinches beside me and I look up.

Sitting on a comfortable cross between an ornate throne and a well-padded easy chair is a tall, olive-skinned man with dark hair and piercing gray-silver eyes. He has a hard jaw and a firm set mouth. He would be one that the thick-headed giggling girls from my manners and royalty classes would call 'hot' and 'good looking'. His eyes are cold, yet a snakelike smile crosses his face. He stands, and he wears a simple light bluish-silver robe with long sleeves that match his gunmetal eyes. He bows with much elegance as a well-practiced prince, and reminds me of many suitors that had visited me when I was a young Senator on Alderaan.

"Welcome to Navis," Graphis proffers a graceful gesture to the surroundings. He steps forwards, towards me first, and bows a greeting worthy of a king. "Your Highness," he murmurs. His voice is lightly accented with a dialect that reminds me of old-time Coruscanti playwrights, the elegance of how he brings up the end of some words and ends them smoothly, like butter onto hot toast. He kisses my hand, and I am reminded of Lando Calrissian's similar behavior at first meeting.

"Your Honor," I respond, playing along, and make a small curtsey, though my eyes and my voice are just as cold and hard. He nods stolidly to Luke, but an odd, unpleasant expression comes over his face as he turns to Han and Chewbacca.

"Han Solo," he says, eyes narrowing slightly. They shake hands stiffly, each man sizing up the other. "Haven't seen you around for a while."

"So with you, Your Greatness," he mutters through clenched teeth after a moment of silence. They stare at each other for another tense second before the crimelord turns around with a billowing robe behind him. He steps back and watches us, Luke, me, Han, Chewie, and back again, a small grimace on his face.

"I would like to invite you all to tea and vacation on this beautiful world," he finally speaks. "But I'm afraid there's some...ah, what to call it...tasks, to do before play.

"Play, my foot," Han growls under his breath, but Chewie quickly stops the remark with a rough kick in the shin. "My shin!"

"I think the phrase is 'my foot', as the former," Graphis continues without a flaw, without a break in his speech. "So forth, I have someone who needs some information."

"Then what do you want?" Han spits out at him, and the gray gaze goes back to my him. A dark smile spreads over his features, and my husband's hold tightens on my hand as his eyes travel onto me.

"Your Falcon could sell for a lot," he starts casually. "Wookies are good slave workers and there's no slave laws in some of the outer rim planets yet-" Chewbacca roars deafeningly but Han grabs his arm and hisses into his ear about 'shut the bantha fodder up'. "And I don't really care for you, Solo. Sell you off or make you into another carbonite coffee table. The Jedi could be useful, teaching the apprentice sent to catch you. Her old mentor died, at her own hand, too." The bounty huntress nods silently but seems more interested in Han than my brother.

"What about her?" Han asks loudly, stepping closer to me. A swell of fear fills my own chest and I try to console myself with the hope that this man doesn't seem half as vile as Jabba the Hutt.

"It's not every day that I capture a fair princess from a gone planet," he articulates carefully with a delighted leer. He waves at the guards, and they start to grab our wrists and arms, kick us along as we just manage to hear the last word under Chewie's infuriated roars. "-I might as well enjoy the opportunity."

They throw us into a dark, muddy room with chains and cufflinks long broken along the walls. Rats and other vermin of who-knows-what skitter away at the footsteps of our party. The iron door clangs shut with an unforgiving boom, and we are left to shiver in the corners of the round, slant-floored room.

Han's arms immediately go around me, and I lean into his embrace. Who knows how much longer we have together?

"They just want a show, Leia," he whispers into my hair. "Don't give them the pleasure."

"Since when have I ever begged for mercy?" I murmur, and Han laughs a weak chuckle.

"We'll get out of this one as all the others, sweetheart," he murmurs. "Don't lose hope."

"I won't."

* * *

**A bit short, but whatev. x)**

**Oh, and sorry about the lame chapter title. Last minute post so I can get it up as soon as possible!**

**Reviews make another chapter happen faster!**


	7. Chapter 7: Jabba Said

**I appreciate all the R&R.**

**Sooo...what does Graphis have up his sleeve?  
Well...he's a bit more emotional than you think.**

**Read it!**

**Chapter Seven: Jabba Said**

* * *

"You, come here,"

I jerk awake next to a stirring Leia on a hard, cold slab of metal that is supposed to serve as a bed. One of the stony faced officers is standing in the doorway, and he strides over to her and grabs her harshly by the wrist. She winces and I immediately flare up in anger. She gives my hand a quick squeeze and a nod of reassurance before she is dragged out of the room. The door shuts with a finality that makes my stomach churn. I stagger over to the hole in the middle of the floor and retch into it what little remains of my last meal there is.

"Are you okay?" Luke steps out of the shadows on silent feet and I glare at him with anger that I know shouldn't be directed at him.

"Does it look like I'm okay?" I spit into the drain and trip back to the metal slab, leaning against the wall.

There is a hard silence as I sit back on the 'bed' and we all wait for what seems eternity.

* * *

My energy is draining. This is obvious.

The drugs have long since worn off and stars explode in my skull with every step I take. When they finally direct me to a seat, I collapse into it and shut my eyes tightly. They feel that I don't really need to be restrained, and they're right, I don't.

When Graphis walks into the room and speaks a smooth 'hello', my brain can barely register the words and they bounce around meaninglessly in my head for a moment. I force my eyes open and I stare at him glassily. I realize there is a concerned look on his face.

I try to sit up straight.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I..." breathe, and I can feel nausea that I'm pretty sure isn't just from the illness rise up. "I have medications in the ship."

"Would you like to get it?"

"I...can't, too tired," I manage to lock my gaze on him, and I realize that this is a good time to test him. "My husband...knows where it is."

He hesitates for a split second and for a moment I wonder what his motives are to keep me alive. He could take whatever information he needed and dispose of me without a mess. He suddenly seems to jump to a decision and leaps to his feet striding rapidly out of the room.

I'm left alone, panting like a fish out of water, but I have some time to contemplate his odd behavior. I really thought I saw some foreign...caring?-in those cold gray eyes. Could it really be...?

Nonsense. He's just playing with me, drawing out my life so he can get more painful interrogation done.

But I know those eyes didn't lie...

Han dashes into the room, a pill bottle rattling in his hand as he skids to a stop and sends a cascade of pills into my palm.

"I only need one, Han," I murmur, and he stuffs one in my mouth. Choking slightly, I swallow and immediately start to feel a bit better. I open my eyes to see a very worried Han hovering over me. As soon as he sees my eyes he smothers me with a long kiss.

"H-H-Han!" I gasp for air. He stares at me for a moment. "You're going to kill me as is!"

"You okay?"

"I have a feeling I'm going to be asked this a lot," I say, then quickly add an answer so he won't become more agitated. "And I'm fine, yes."

"All right," Graphis declares sharply. "That's enough." Guards take Han's arms again and lead him out.

"See you later," I call, and he gives me a worried smile.

"Better now?" Graphis sits down on a seat opposite of me and I nod, studying his face carefully and even trying to use the Force like Luke taught me to. He seems aware of what I'm doing and covers up his sheepishness by taking a wineglass from a nearby table. Sipping delicately, he looks away from my stare.

"Thank you." I say, my voice turning diplomatic. He nods. I wait for a few more slow seconds until he places his glass down and turns to talk to me.

"I have got a few questions for you," he says, apparently having regained his bearing.

"As I do."

We both play the game of civil talk, neither taking eyes off of the other.

"What is your business here?" he cuts to the chase and I stall for time by taking another sip of the wine. It's sweet and smooth and almost bubbly, like champagne. I shake my head inwardly, and wonder if I should really tell. Well, I'm too tired and too overwhelmed to think up of any stories or lies. He probably knows anyways.

"Don't you know?" I say in a light conversational tone. He watches me for a second before nodding slowly. "How do you?"

"I have my sources." he says shortly. I can only help but wonder about the doctors from the hospital. The generous, curious couple. The old woman.

"Why haven't you handed us over or gotten information from us or just killed us yet?" I prod, but he gives me a cryptic smile.

"I believe I'm the one who's interrogating." he swills his wine in his glass and shoots me a contemplative look.

"Of course."

There is a silent battle of the wills.

"I heard you are ill."

"Yes."

Does he know more than this? I think he'd be a bit less casual if he did know. I wonder if he knows about my pregnancy, either.

"There is a cure?"

Why would he ask this?

I only stare at him with dark, foreboding eyes. He returns the gaze with his own impassive gray ones.

"I hope you enjoy your time here, Princess Leia Organa," he says after a quiet moment. "Because you are staying here forever."_  
_

I keep my eyes locked on his as guards escort me out of the lavish room. Just as I am about to be pushed out of the door, I throw one last remark over my shoulder.

"That's what Jabba said."

* * *

Leia is pushed into our cell and the door locks shut again. Luke and Chewie immediately come out into the light of the skylight and they watch her with silent, sober faces.

"What did he do? Are you okay?" I take her by the arms and guide her gently back to the bench. She looks at me with an odd expression.

"He knows that I'm ill," she states slowly. "But probably doesn't know about the terminally-ill part or the baby."

"He didn't make you say anything about the New Republic?" Luke asks softly.

"No. Nothing on those terms."

Chewie barks in confusion and I nod in agreement.

"What did he say?" Leia asks, frowning.

"That we've got a dangerous man on our hands."

* * *

**I dragged a little through that one.**

**Oh well.**

**I know this isn't mine, but it gets to me every time.**

**To read without reviewing is a FanFiction sin!**


	8. Chapter 8: History Repeats

**Reading and reviews make each of my days brighter!**

**Read!**

**Chapter Eight: History Repeats**

* * *

"I smell a Gungan."

I blink at Han. This planet is almost as arid and dry as my homeplanet of Tatooine.

"Figuratively."

Leia's breathing is ragged from the corner. The medications help, but just.

The rest of us are really barely any better. Thirst parches all of our tongues, and the growl of hunger is neverending. We're all at the end of our tether, it's the third morning of our capture.

Chewbacca roars weakly, and it only takes a brush of the Force to understand what he means.

"This is it, Chewie," Han murmurs. He staggers over to the slab where Leia gasps for water and slumps against the wall, hand closing over hers. My sister twitches in acknowledgement.

We are all about to pass out when the cell door opens and a large metal tray is slid loudly into the room.

Han bolts up, as do all of us except Leia, who only turns her head in our direction.

Chewbacca roars in relief and falls to his knees. I lift the tray, heavy with soup and rice and pear slices and warm tea. A moment later another tray rattles through with an extra big set for Chewie.

Han takes a bowl of soup and a spoon and crosses the room to Leia, helping her sit up against the wall. She is awfully pale and looks as delicate as porcelain. He takes a spoon of the warm broth and feeds it into her, sip by sip until she looks relatively stronger.

"Eat, Han." she rasps. He hands her a cup of tea and her pears and rice and she lifts shaky hands as she begins to feed herself.

This seems to be a cue and we all start to eat hungrily. The food is very good and the pears fresh and crisp. By the time the food is done we are all very full.

"Why are they doing this?" Leia says softly, but we can only blink back in perplexity.

* * *

I finish the stale tea with another pill. Han strokes my forehead, and I know that he feels the raging heat start to diminish as I do.

"I should have known." he mutters.

"I'm sorry." I cough in return.

"I'm sorry?" Han stares at me in disbelief. "I'm _sorry?_ Sweetheart, if anybody is to blame it's me."

"I was the one who dragged all of you out on this wild goose chase," I rasp. "I was supposed to die anyways. Now all of you are going to die with me."

All three of them burst out in in incredulous and disapproving words.

"Leia, you aren't going to die." Han says firmly. Chewie barks loudly, nodding. Luke steps up and takes my hand in his, his warm blue gaze dead serious on mine.

"We'll get out of here if it's the last thing we do."

And I had a chilling sense of premonition run down my back.

Because I never really knew how true those fateful words would become.

* * *

"You've got your blaster?" Han asks for the umpteenth time. I nod in exasperation.

We've been planning this out since the third day, with the first meal. There were two meals a day, regularly timed and just as plentiful.

Now its the fifth day, and nothing has been happening other than a meet with just me and Graphis promised every day in the morning. Last time there was nothing but stiff, polite conversation about the Alliance and the New Republic. To be honest I am completely puzzled by what he could be up to.

We've timed this at exactly 0900, also when the talks with Graphis should be, half an hour after I had eaten and taken the medication. By the time the worst part of the action starts it should be at the peak of my energy. We all just hope that this won't last too long.

"Be careful, okay?" he says in a low voice, watching me carefully. "I don't trust him."

I lean up onto my toes and give him a gentle kiss on the lips.

"I'll be fine."

I am escorted back to Graphis's throne room as always.

He enters in a grand dark cape that billows behind him. He beams cordially and gestures me to as seat. I do so, but I am to speak first this time.

"Mr. Heste," I speak in a sugary-sweet tone. He is immediately charmed and nods almost dreamily.

"No need, no need for the formalities, Ms. Organa."

Well, by now I'm a bit confused and pleased at my success. What _does_ he have up his sleeve?

"I was wondering if you could hear us, as in my companions and I, out. We really do appreciate all you have done for us."

"Mmmm, of course," he says, and I want to punch him in the gut. Help us, my foot.

"Your droids have been very enchanting, telling about the story of your struggle."

Oh. Threepio and Artoo. We left them on the Falcon. I hope they haven't been blabbing off everything. No, Artoo may be an old bucket of bolts, but he's no fool. I'm just worried about Threepio.

"Yes, but there is more to our story, if you'd be grand enough to listen." I bat my eyes at him and he immediately melts. I know if I had seen someone else doing this I would turn around and barf.

"Oh, most certainly."

And so soon all of us, even the droids, are assembled in another lounge with many chairs.

"I think His Greatness is a most honorable man," Threepio babbles loudly. Han scowls at him, reaching for his deactivation switch, but I shot him a look and he drops his hand.

"All together again, huh?" Luke says to me under his breath and I nod tiredly, remembering the last time he had said it not so long ago. In another palace. While captured by another crimelord.

History repeats itself a lot, as I realize.

Han squeezes my hand in unease and I look up at him.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

I look down at our clasped hands and whisper the words just as Graphis Heste walks in.

"Me too."

* * *

**Reviews pleaaaaassee! I know there are the lurkers who don't review! I see you all on the graphs!**

**You can't hide! :)**


	9. Chapter 9: Darkness

**I'm sorry I've stopped for a while. But I'm not giving up! This chapter is gonna be MUCH shorter because I'm just getting into the groove of things. Tomorrow is a morning of Panera brunch, so expect some more chapters heading your way to finish this off.**

**And WARNING: May stop your heart near the end.**

**Chapter Nine: Darkness**

* * *

"Thank you for taking the time to listen to our story."

Luke is first to speak, and Graphis only nods coldly.

"Of course." I can see the doubt of this start to show in his eyes as he sees all of us clustered before him. We have to act fast. I flash a smile at the crimelord who immediately turns his gaze upon me.

"We have been searching for a partner in these tough times." I purr. Han, knowing the signal, casually stretches his foot, as if he has a minor cramp. I do the same a moment later, as to not arouse suspicion. Luke can use the Force to dislodge his small lightsaber.

"Oh, yes. There must be more to the tale than what we hear through the holonews."

I sense Luke's eyes casually traversing the room to rest on a particularly elegant glass vase on a small table. I send him a telepathic nod of consent and squeeze Han's hand in warning. Chewbacca feels the inconspicuous kick from Luke.

It's all up to careful timing now.

Luke does not even tense as I can feel the Force flowing away from him to brush that precariously-balanced milky vase.

It teeters and for a moment a feeling of guilt at destroying such a beautiful artifact hits me.

It falls, as if in slow motion, and it hits the ground with a mind-shattering clatter.

Thousands of shards of broken porcelain erupt and suddenly I can see the faces of whom I love break with it. Han, Luke, even Chewie. The same feeling of helplessness and despair at my unexplained knowledge washes over me. The knowledge that I will lose something very, very dear to me.

And suddenly everything is back, in crystal clarity. Everything is too bright, too perfect. Everything distorted every breath a fight to take.

_What is happening?_

My mind barely registers Han as he pushes me to the ground, shielding my body with his, the sound of spattering laserbolts, screams of the injured.

Of the dying.

I can't take a hold of my mind. Details blend and shift and meld and break. Sounds scream in my ears or hiss into white noise. Nothing, and everything, is there, and gone.

_Help me!_

Darkness.

* * *

Darkness.

Soothing darkness.

Comforting darkness.

Nothing but my own heartbeat, warmth.

A fuzzy dark light.

And another beat, close to mine.

And a louder one, a stronger one, that hangs far above my head.

I can feel her shock, her happiness. Her love, her sorrow, her disbelief. Her pain.

Her sadness.

Her beautiful sadness, a brooding swan without her love.

And for a moment, I can feel him, too.

His love. His sorrow.

His darkness.

His despairing, vengeful darkness.

His blind darkness.

Darkness.

* * *

It was long, bloody.

Chaotic.

And what was the worst part was that she was gone.

Just lying there, on her side, gasping and twitching and her eyes glazed.

And then still.

Cold, and still.

But there was no time to cry.

We had to run.

Fast.

And we did.

The Falcon was waiting, with the droids.

Luke and Chewbacca took control. For me.

And all I could do was lay her down on my bunk.

Feel that fading heartbeat, those weak, rasping gasps.

And let those tears I kept in for her sake, free.

* * *

**Short but undeniably perfect to me. I think those weeks of silence lead up to this crescendo of good prose. At least, in my case.**

**Don't give up, readers. This is a sin to us shippers, and I won't let this lie still.**

**P.S.: I need reviews, people! They don't come and I die inside. ;)**


	10. Chapter 10: Always In A Crisis

**Took awhile to finish this up, but here ya go!**

**Chapter Ten: Always In A Crisis**

* * *

"Just shoot me."

Han did not even look up at his voice.

"Why are you here?" he growled, his voice a malevolent hiss.

"I have to see her one last time."

"You killed her."

"I...I did."

"Yes."

"So kill me."

The first man looked up, hazel eyes dark.

"She's still alive."

"She is?" he screamed, shooting up as if he was electrified.

"Why do you care?"

"Is there a cure? Is that why you came here?"

"Don't you know?" Han straightened up slowly, staring at Graphis Heste.

"I was hired."

"The Empire?"

"Worse."

"Worse?"

The two exchanged dark glances.

"But I didn't mean to kill her."

"There's a cure, Heste!" Han said, suddenly bolting to the cockpit.

"Wait!"

He grabbed his wrist and twisted him around.

"The wizard?"

"Yes."

"He's gone."

"Gone!"

"They're going to take him."

"Then we'd better hurry."

"Solo, they've departed an hour ago!"

"From where?"

"Hyss, the closest planet."

"Then we can beat them."

"The odds of getting there faster than a major Imperial cruiser-"

"Never tell me the odds!" Han Solo snarled, taking the pilot's seat from Luke as he dashed in with Graphis at his heels. Chewbacca saw the crimelord and roared in fury.

"Shut up, you furball, we need to find the old coot!" he shouted, clearing off the original destination from the nav computer. "Heste, make yourself useful and tell us the land coordinates-"

"58.9 by 29.4 by 2." he snapped back.

"Luke, get Leia on the med cot and the oxygen mask on her. Keep her alive!"

"Right." he said, just about the only one remotely calm as he exited the cockpit with controlled haste.

Sweat streamed down the man's face, suddenly finding himself at the head of this crazy mission. All that was in his mind was to cure his dying princess.

"Wait," Han sputtered, eyes wide as he looked up in realization. "It's on the other side of this crazy planet!"

"And they're approaching from that side. The planet's too big, I told you, we need a miracle-"

Luckily for them, Han Solo was one particularly sharp Corellian.

He pulled up sharply, causing the passengers to yell in fright as the artificial gravity failed to catch up with them quite on time.

"What are you doing?!" Graphis screamed, knuckles white on his armrests.

"We'll never get there on time by land," he muttered. Chewie barked at his co-pilot in disbelief as they rocketed straight back into space. He reached over to the hyperspace lever, eyes on the count on the dashboard's screen.

"You aren't going to jump it! The risk of being pulled apart-!"

"Just shut the hell up, Heste!"

And they shot into the purple murkiness of hyperspace.

Chewbacca roared at his insane partner.

"Don't worry, I'll pull out in time." Han snapped, eyes frantic.

"Hurry!" Luke's voice called from the other room.

The numbers began to decrease at a terrifyingly steady rate. If Han did not pull out of hyperspace at precisely 1.23 parsecs from the planet's surface, they would all be torn into a billion floating molecules.

_It's now or never._

_There's nothing to lose._

BAM!

He slammed the lever back up, almost bending the metal, and for a horrifying second everybody held their breath and closed their eyes.

_zzzippp-HOOOOoooosh._

And the yellow, barren landscape appeared beneath them in crystal clarity.

Everybody breathed an enormous sigh of relief as Han slowed for the descent.

But they weren't out of the forest yet.

They landed next to the hermit's shack without much difficulty; the whole land was flat and sandy.

"Tatooine all over again." Han muttered. Luke had Leia slung over his shoulder and Chewbacca opened the door.

"You keep watch, Heste."

"Of course."

And as Han glanced back to see the tall man, pulling out his blaster and nodding shortly to his temporary allies, he had to admit that the crimelord had guts.

"Come in!"

An elderly, hunched man called from the door. They dashed into a small mud dwelling with only bare necessities. Luke set his rapidly fading sister down on the bed and the hermit immediately reached over and stared down at her.

"Well?" Han blurted, highly agitated.

He began to touch specific points on her forehead, her cheekbones, her neck, and her eyes. His faded green eyes closed and he started to hum a soft, almost spooky tune under his breath.

Luke watched, utterly fascinated as green light pulsed from his fingers and touched upon his sibling's body. Thousands of veins of light traveled down to her hands and feet until she glowed a blinding green of life.

And suddenly the man was exhausted, and fell back on a chair, his fingers suddenly dull again.

The Jedi's gaze turned back to Leia, who's chest started to rise and fall again. He watched with growing amazement as her brown eyes slowly opened.

"Leia!" Han gasped with tears of joy, rushing to her side and feeling her cheek, once again warm to the touch. A feeble smile cracked across her face and she squeezed her husband's hand.

"I'm back."

Luke looked to the hermit, who had sat up now and was smiling, satisfied. He noticed the other man's gaze and turned with a wink.

"You saw the light."

"The Force..."

"Yes."

"Who are you?"

"...It shall be revealed later."

Meanwhile Han was helping Leia sit up, and he gently picked her up in his arms. She still looked quite tired, but the point was that she was alive.

"The Ghraat virus is gone." the healer said, and Han nodded blankly, unable to express his thanks but still rather distracted.

Chewbacca barked in relief, but Han danced back from his excited embrace.

"Don't crush her!" he said, and the Wookie whimpered in apology.

Suddenly there was a crash.

"Graphis!" Han jumped, horrified. They ran out to see what was the matter.

Five darkly-clothed men crouched with high-powered blasters on their shoulders. Just as their targets emerged from the shack one of them fired a rifle, sending a laserbolt straight at Graphis.

"No!" screamed the princess.

Han ran towards the Falcon with a terrified Leia in his arms. Threepio gestured frantically from the open gangway. Han laid Leia, who had tears streaming down her face, on the holochess table couch and ran into the cockpit.

Artoo Detoo had plugged up and was starting to shoot the ship's guns when the captain blasted in. He let out a series of shrill beeps and twitters of relief.

"Yeah, yeah, thanks a lot, now would you get the ship fired up?"

The droid beeped immediately and manipulated the dock. Han set a few switches before running back towards the gun towers. He nearly crashed into a unsteady Leia, on her feet.

"Sit back down!" he shouted, leaning over her.

"I can take care of myself, I'm not backing down!" she returned, her voice still as fiery as ever.

"You're ill!"

Leia cupped his face in her hands and kissed him, short but searing.

"I'm not giving up, flyboy."

Han found himself smiling at his wife before turning around and mounting the ladders to the top tower.

"I love you."

"I know."

Always in a crisis.

* * *

**Ooh, it's not over yet. ;)**

**I may do a few more chapters before the story wraps up. Stay tuned!**

**Oh, and reviews make it happen faster, btw!**


	11. Epilogue

**Full regrets to this story to be closing up. I had so much fun writing it and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!**

**So here you go, last but not least.**

**Epilogue**

* * *

Another person dead.

Because of me.

Wherever I go I leave a path of destruction and death in my wake.

I try. I really do.

But it never works, does it?

So here I was, once again.

At the side of a dead being, crying.

Not just because of the man's death.

But because he died protecting me.

And now I realized that it was true concern, what I saw in those gray eyes. And love.

More than a friend, more than a brother.

But what could I do?

It was to be forever unrequited.

So I slid those eyelids shut, gently. I covered the gaping hole in his chest with his dark cape.

And I whispered my thanks, my sorrow.

My apology.

What could I do?

* * *

"The child is gone."

The second blow.

We cried for days.

For weeks.

And I knew that if he had been born his middle name would have been Heste.

And we'd tell him about his namesake.

And later he'd understand what that late man had felt.

But now it was all gone.

All because of that single fruit.

Sometimes I wondered if I could go back and change that single link.

That single link, that single crack in the glass that created the whole web of reactions and consequences.

Because, as I did not know, there was much, much more to come.

* * *

**I'm sorry if the ending came too fast, but I just thought I might cut it shorter because I _might_ be considering a sequel. I need your opinions on this please, especially you-who-do-not-review. And yes, that means you too. So pleaaaase, tell me your thoughts!**

**And thankyouthankyouthankyou for reading and reviewing!**

**See ya next time,**

**Cinquain :)**


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